By This Sword
by AzureFlameXIIIGod
Summary: "What are you! Are you the Personification of the Knights of the Round!" Caster asked the anomalous Servant of the Sword. "I know not your story, yet I know your blades. Identify yourself!" A story of a different Saber. One who is not a Hero, but a collection of them. An anomaly of the War fights. What better way to pair the Bearer of Holy swords with one who can copy them?
1. Prologue: The Sword is Drawn

_**This is a challenge I made that no one took, so I**_ _ **'**_ _ **m attempting this pilot chapter.**_

Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.

Prologue: The Sword is Drawn

"What are you! Are you the Personification of the Knights of the Round?!" Caster asked the anomalous Servant of the Sword. "I know not your story, yet I know your blades. Identify yourself!"

Yes this is what I am. I am a hero with no name. I am merely an object that gathered heroes together. The Once and Future King, Black Knight, Gallant Shield, Knight of the Sun, and many more congregated around me. I am the item that brings them together. I am no sword, yet I call forth those very swords owned by those I've named.

I'm an anomaly. I'm an abomination in the system. I am no Heroic Spirit. I have no legend. I'm a mere paragraph compared to the epics of those famous knights. However, this does not mean I will yield to this wretched witch.

To do so meant to stain the legends I personify.

I stood my ground in front of my Master. I had to protect him from our enemies like the one in front of me. "See for thyself who or what I am, Caster!" I challenged. "Taste my blade! See for thyself the metal I bear in my hands! But know this. There is no victory for thou today." I held my ordinary longsword by the handle, and directed its point at the witch floating in the violet night sky. "Thou shall lie in a pool of thine own blood here and now, Medea!"

-Days ago-

Shirou Emiya ran as fast as his legs could handle. Two strange men, one in red and the other in blue, fought at the courtyard in front of the school. He felt the presence of one of those men chasing him. They weren't normal; Shirou knew that quite well. Their bodies exuded Prana. They weren't Magi because their whole body was Prana. They were Servants. Two of the seven Heroic Spirits were in front of him earlier. ' _This is impossible!_ ' Shirou shouted in his head. ' _It_ _'_ _s only been ten years! Why is the Holy Grail War happening so early?!_ '

Shirou's instincts told him to duck and counter. He followed his instincts, and lowered his body. Wind swept past him like a bull that missed by a margin. He glanced back. No one was there. Murderous intent came off in waves in front of him. The sheer amount of it suffocated the third-rate Magus. He realized that he was much too slow.

Too foolish to think he could outrun a Servant.

Yet, he knew if he surrendered, he would die.

Shirou looked up at a red spear that lunged towards his heart. His body reacted like a machine. His mind picked a blueprint, and copied it. He sparked his circuits. The mental process to conjure the blueprint into a real object was hastened under the unique and dire condition to survive. An aria was muttered in the hall. "Trace…on!" Prana coated his right arm like lightning. The energy took form. Narrow, curved, and elegantly extended; a sword. A katana to be more accurate. The blade swung to the left. Sparks flew as deadly spear met convincing copy.

The spearpoint missed. It struck ground instead.

Shirou was speechless. His attacker was as well. Shirou kept the blade in front of him. He was ready for another attack. The spear was pulled from the floor. The young man tensed. Legs were ready to spring. Arms were ready to swing. Eyes were ready to predict. Mind was ready to split.

Like a whip, the spear swatted the air. Its bladed tip scarred the nearby wall as it closed in on Shirou. Shirou's sword blocked the blow. The power sent him backwards. However, instead of enduring the full force, he diminished it by arching the spearpoint over his head by the aid of his creation. The dreaded point arced back to its blue clad wielder before it lashed out at a blinding speed. Shirou drew the sword with his left hand while his right acted like a guide. His vertical defense instantly broke into pieces.

The spear shallowly carved into the skin. Shards of his sword slashed his left shoulder or were embedded into his left clavicle. The spearman wasn't done. An inhuman kick sent Shirou flying down the hall.

Bones were fractured, misplaced, or broken. Muscles were torn, bruised, or bleeding. The boy lost all feeling in his left arm. That was of no consequence. He still had his other arm and legs. He curled up. Right arm and left foot acted as support. Slowly, the boy rose up.

The spearman was quite surprised. That hit alone should have killed the boy on the spot.

"I'm surprised." The spearman remarked. "What you pulled off was a peculiar, little trick. That was no mere Projection. It seems more like a mutation or an evolution of the craft. In any case, it's unique."

The boy could not answer. His mind was far too focused on the pain.

The spearman walked to the boy with rushed steps. His enemies would be here soon. He needed to part with a few last words to the boy. "To think a construct of Prana lasted three hits against a Noble Phantasm. You have a gift, kiddo." The man in blue drew his spear back. "Too bad, you won't see its full potential. May your weary bones find peaceful rest." The point headed for the boy's heart.

Flesh parted for the blade. The spear struck the heart with naught a single sound.

The spearman watched as the boy fell to his knees. ' _What drive from a human. To think that he had potential._ ' He knelt down on one knee, and closed the boy's hazy, yet defiant eyes. "You were at the wrong place at the wrong time… Maybe you were meant to be the seventh." He stood up, but not without giving the boy one last look.

In the boy's hands were the blades Archer held. But seconds later, that dematerialized. It was a sign that the boy was no longer in this world.

' _Defiant till the end._ ' The spearman thought. And with that, he disappeared into nothing.

* * *

 _Two people, a man and a boy, sat on a porch. The two stared at the shining moon in the deep azure night sky._

" _When I was little, I wanted to be a hero._ _"_ _The man spoke solemnly._

" _What?_ _"_ _The boy couldn't believe what the man, his father, said._ _"_ _You_ wanted _to become one?Did you give up?_ _"_ _The man nodded for confirmation. The boy frowned at the answer._

" _It_ _'_ _s unfortunate, but_ _…"_ _The man took a pause._ _"_ _Being a hero is a limited-time thing._ _"_ _He said._ _"_ _When you grow up, it gets hard to call yourself one. I should have realized it sooner. Things like good and evil are blurred. It_ _'_ _s not as easy to say you_ _'_ _re doing something for justice because other things come into play._ _"_ _The explanation was vague, but the boy understood it a little._ _"_ _Shirou_ _…_ _a hero cannot hope to save everyone. They can only do their best. Understand?_ _"_

 _The boy nodded._ _"_ _Yeah. You did your best._ _"_ _He said._ _"_ _You tried so hard to save everyone. You gave up because you couldn_ _'_ _t get there._ _"_ _The man looked at his son. The boy in front of him deciphered his words so easily._ _"_ _I understand a hero will fail at some point. I_ _'_ _ll do my best too._ _"_ _The boy turned to his father._ _"_ _I_ _'_ _ll do it for you. Leave it to me. I_ _'_ _ll be a hero that will do my best to save everyone._ _"_

" _Right_ _…"_

 _The boy sent Prana to his hands._ _"_ _And I_ _'_ _ll start by using my powers to help people._ _"_ _In his hands, a small knife materialized._

" _And how will you do that? All you can do is figure out the composition of something, and make swords._ _"_ _The man pointed out._

" _I_ _'_ _ll fight to keep everyone as safe as possible!_ _"_ _The boy answered._

" _Then it_ _'_ _s best I teach you how to better your technique, right?_ _"_

* * *

Shirou woke up violently. He bolted into a sitting position while his hands performed his brand of Magecraft. "Wha? Where?" He was confused. "I…I was stabbed in the heart. How am I alive?" He asked himself. He looked around, and found a ruby-like pendant. He felt the residual Prana inside it. "Someone saved me…" He realized. He took a pause to look at his fully healed wound. Not a single blemish on his skin. The young man looked around him for the spearman. He was alert, but confused. There was no reason that the War would start so early. Kiritsugu explained that it only happened in sixty years. ' _Was there some backlash from the previous war?_ ' He shook his head; there was no time to analyze the situation. He needed to get home. He needed to get a Servant! "I don't know how many have been summoned, but I'm going to join to stop this war!"

Shirou ran. Ran as fast as he could. He ignored the strain on his lungs, on his legs, on his muscles. His wellbeing was irrelevant to the potential thousands that could die in the War. He didn't want the fire to happen. Not again. Kiritsugu explained his very mistake the day he died; the day he gave up being a hero; the day of the fire. He would surpass Kiritsugu! He would save more lives than his father did.

He reached his home with no problems. He didn't go to inside immediately. He went to his workshop, the shed. He continued to ignore the screams of pain his body endlessly sent to his brain. His determination would not waver. It was tempered to be as strong as steel! Yet because of this, he got tunnel vision.

Had he been of sound mind and body, he would have noticed a red glint on the corner of his eye.

The shaft of the spear struck Shirou's left side. Like a bat, the spearman swung with enough force to launch the young man near the door of the shed.

The young man fell on all fours. "Lancer…" Shirou croaked. The blow took out the air inside him, but it was a momentary inconvenience. He groggily stood up with unsteady steps. He fell back on the wall behind him to right himself.

"Hm? So you know what I am." Lancer spoke with surprise. "You know about the Grail War. I'm astonished." The blue clad man lowered his weapon. "Somehow, you still live. I thought blunt force would be enough, but it seems you are intent on ignoring the pain." Lancer palmed his face. It was neither fun nor entertaining to do the same thing again. "Stuck with killing the same person twice in one day… You're like a cockroach, you know that?"

Shirou didn't listen. His tunnel vision was still there. Behind him was the shed. And in there, the summoning circle and his catalyst were ready and waiting. He dashed off into the shed in hope of successfully summoning a Servant in time.

"Oh come on… Man up will you?"

Shirou looked on the floor for the summoning circle, but he couldn't find it. After years of unattended care, junk covered up the summoning circle. Red filtered and bounced off the walls. He moved to retaliate. From the nearby table, he picked up a generic longsword with a faded gold cross-guard. Shirou immediately reinforced it, and preemptively swung at the spear.

Lancer swatted it out of Shirou's hands. The sword flew into the junk pile, and landed on a round table in the middle of the pileup. The residual Prana on the weapon seeped down into the old furniture like an injection from a needle.

"Looks like the pain has dwindled your fighting capability, kiddo." Lancer remarked. "You're nothing more than a piece of straw trying to stand." A swift boot to the chest blew Shirou to the wall.

"…I-" Shirou could barely speak. His body was too battered to move. Yet his eyes never gave a single sign that he ever planned to surrender.

Lancer's thrust of his spear seemed to slow down as Shirou inspected the weapon that would end his life. Red like blood, the fine, polished metal of this unique spear. One thing Shirou noticed from the spear was that it radiated Prana all over it. The spear inched closer, and yet Shirou could still feel the slowness of this moment. Grounded like he was in quicksand, he could do nothing but watch as the mysterious spearman kill him for being a witness to the Holy Grail War. Try all he might, he would never be able to dodge this next blow without external interference from anyone or anything.

Unknowingly for both men, a Command Spell had already etched itself on the boy's left hand. Blood red and shaped like a sword, this mark signified his position as a Master. It marked him as a participant of the Holy Grail War.

' _No! I have to live! I can't die here because of this Servant! My dream...My desire to be a hero!_ ' Shirou's Command Spell sprung to life, the energy it released linked with the nearby, antique table over hidden, self-creating summoning circle. ' _I can_ _'_ _t die without becoming a hero!_ ' His thoughts were channeled through this link, and the antique table and the sword, the catalysts to the upcoming summoning, called to the people linked to its existence. The silhouettes of several armored Knights and their swords invaded the boy's mind through the link. This image sparked Shirou's desire to be vocally said, and with a stunning bellow, he stopped Lancer's blow with his right hand, pierced by its point, and yelled, "I'm going to live! I'm not going to die from a person who kills...FOR A _BLACKENED_ GRAIL!"

With those choice words, the summoning circle glowed a gentle, holy blue light. Lancer was surprised. He retracted his spear, and aimed its point at the newcomer. Replacing the antique table was a Knight, who stepped forward with invisible blade in hand, slashing at Lancer to push him away from the boy. He questioned the silhouette, "Seventh Servant?!" The man recovered quickly, upon touching the ground. The blue-clad Servant chose to not take retaliatory action, and opted for in-field reconnaissance on this new Servant.

"I have heeded thy call." The Servant said monotonously. He turned towards his summoner. "Servant Saber, at thy service. Now...I ask. Art thou my Master?"

The Servant bore a silver breastplate with leather belts strapping the back armor from underneath his armpits. His shoulders bore a pair of Pauldrons with smaller layers linked underneath for extra protection. His left hand was covered by a finely made gauntlet while his right seemed to have the same gauntlet, but underneath a royal blue long sleeve. His Fauld and Tassets were the same color as his breastplate and Pauldrons, and they hid the seams that allowed the him to have three royal blue coattails that ran down the length of his legs, and stopped just short of his ankles. Hidden by the coattail covering his front, his legs were equipped with a pair of silver Cuisse, Poleyns, Greaves, and Sabatons that completed his fortified outfit. Now looking up, Shirou stared at emerald irises brimming with charisma and loyalty for the boy. The man knelt on one knee, his left hand just by his heart. The Knight's blond hair swayed in the wind that picked up during his summoning.

Stunned by this new development, Shirou could only stare in awe. It was at this point in his life that his dream to be a hero could be a reality. Somehow, he knew that the man before him was a hero.

Technically, the Servant wasn't a Heroic Spirit, but rather the object linked to these aforementioned heroes. Why this particular catalyst was allowed to be a Servant was quite confusing, but what the Servant could tell was that his summoning was not by chance.

The man repeated his question once more with extra emphasis and urgency in his words. "Again, I ask of thee. Art thou my Master?"

"Master?" The Servant stared at Shirou's left hand, where the Command Spell glowed. "Yes, I am, Saber. I am Shirou Emiya. Thanks for the rescue."

"Thy thanks art not needed. Thou art my Master." The Knight answered for himself. Standing up to full height, the Knight turned around to face Lancer. The Knight never turned back, his focus was solely on the Servant who dared to kill his Master. "The pact is forged. My sword shall be thy fate. Should my sword break, it will signify thy death. Welcome to the bloodbath that is the Holy Grail War, Master, the Seventh Master." Saber pulled the sword that was once embedded on the table. The simple and generic design of the blade was nothing special compared to Lancer's blood-red spear.

It was almost insulting to the blue-clad man that the best Servant class would fight with an ordinary sword instead of a Noble Phantasm. Yet, from the moment Saber held onto the sword, the sword itself felt…stronger. It wasn't the same as Reinforcement, yet at the same time it was reinforced.

Shirou observed the blade. Like a scanner at the cash register, an imaginary line scanned the blade from point to pommel. ' _It_ _'_ _s been reforged._ ' He thought. The sword was reforged to be stronger than what it was supposed to be. The decorative sword became an actual sword in Saber's hands.

"Lancer!" Saber called, "Retreat, or my sword shall slay thee where thou stands!" The knight lowered his stance, and spread his legs. He pulled his blade's handle right behind his ears. His left hand acted as a guide that aimed the sword's point to Lancer's heart.

Lancer took his battle stance. The spear pointed at the ground as directed by the positions of his arms. The left arm was the arm closest to the point while his right arm was on the other end of the spear. "No can do, Saber. My Master told me to do recon on the enemy. As of right now, you are my enemy. So if you wish to make me leave, then make me leave by meeting Death!"

Lancer's simple answer did not satisfy Saber. The Servant of the sword tightened his grip on his blade, and charged. "Then I shall rid thee of mortal coil, Lancer!" Saber shouted.

"Come, Saber!" Lancer replied back. "Let's see what that lackluster sword can do!"

* * *

Saber stabbed his sword into the ground. Prana rushed out of his body. A magic circle, a summoning circle, appeared beneath his feet. A rush of power flowed outwards in an attempt to blow the caster away. Yet the Knight stood his ground. Inside the roaring winds of Prana, Saber spoke an aria.

 _A Knight lives for the people._

 _Valor, his body._

 _Honor, his armor._

 _Wrath, his sword._

 _We serve to protect the innocent._

 _We serve to annihilate the enemy._

 _It is by this creed that we Knights exist_

 _It is by this creed that we Knights congregate_

 _It is by this creed that we return for the fight_

 _Come! By the Order of the Round_ _…_

 _Return, Knights of Camelot!_

"I see… Your name… You are no Hero." Caster muttered at the sight. "You are the catalyst."

 _ **And this is the end of the pilot chapter. Hope this sparks some interest. Saber**_ _ **'**_ _ **s appearance is that of Proto Saber.**_

 _ **This is Azure signing off.**_


	2. A Partnership, Not a Contract

_**Well this seems promising. I hope you guys stick around some more for this.**_

Disclaimer: first chapter

Chapter 1: A Partnership, Not a Contract

Lancer took his battle stance. The spear pointed at the ground as directed by the positions of his arms. The left arm was closest to the point while his right arm was on the other end of the spear. "No can do, Saber. My Master told me to do recon on the enemy. As of right now, you are my enemy. So if you wish to make me leave, then make me leave by meeting Lady Death!"

Lancer's simple answer did not satisfy Saber. The Servant of the Sword tightened his grip on his blade, and charged. "Then I shall rid thee of thy mortal coil, Lancer!" Saber shouted.

"Come, Saber!" Lancer replied as he repositioned himself for a charging strike. "Let's see what that lackluster sword can do!"

Knight and spearman blurred as they lunged at each other. Reforged sword clashed against the red spear. Lancer's spear snaked around for a shot at the knight's armor but was hindered by the swift interceptions of Saber's sword. Multiple times they collided, each time looking like fireworks were going off nearby. At least…that's what it looked like to the untrained eye. The astounding display of offense and defense had yet to dwindle with with time.

Servants, heroes of legend, were truly terrifying.

' _I_ _'_ _ll be as strong as them. To keep the innocent safe; to keep them happy._ ' Shirou thought. He took a glance down at his hands, ' _If my powers can help me reach that, then maybe I can be a hero too._ ' His open hands closed into fists.

Raising his head to look at the battle between the two powerful warriors, Shirou noticed one particular detail, something that had him start to worry; Saber's sword was being chipped away with each clash against Lancer's Noble Phantasm.

Shirou instantly searched his mind for an appropriate sword for Saber to use. He found one in the form of a drawing a student made from his school. If he remembered correctly, the student was obsessed with western knights and medieval times while also being quite the artist. It was the main reason why Shirou remembered it in the first place. While he couldn't imagine its materials, he could always substitute it with those he'd seen before. Prana flowed into his hands, and ebbed into a structure seamlessly. The framework was done. He placed the materials in. He sculpted its finer details.

But there was a snag in the process.

Shirou, for all intents and purposes, was about to produce a sword with no history. He played the smith that birthed the existence of a physical version of a sword. No history meant no experience. He couldn't assimilate with something that had no wielder. There was nothing to learn or adapt to.

Saber's sword screamed.

Shirou looked again.

The sword was visibly chipped, yet Saber continued on with his assault and defense. Despite its appearance, the sword fought hard against the spear. Saber utilized it as if it was his own weapon. The pair skirted around powerful blows as he tried to enter Lancer's ineffective range. However, Lancer was prepared for such a tactic. Saber's offense pushed Lancer back in such a way that the latter kept the former at a proper distance.

"You're a nameless knight, of that I'm sure!" Lancer barked at his opponent.

"And thou art a swift beast, of that I'm sure." Saber calmly returned. "As such, thou art but one terrifying foe."

"I'm flattered, Briton." Lancer said.

"Flattery is not my strongest suit, Gael." Saber said. "But thou art worthy of my rare, encouraging words."

"Well that sure sounds nice." He smirked. "And you're quite daring to fight me with a regular sword!"

Their exchange of banter didn't cease their assault against one another. In fact, it only fueled their desire to win over the other. The swordsman fought harder to keep his Master away from the dreaded spear, while the spearman increased his speed to pierce through an impressive yet deteriorating defense.

Saber swung laterally but was blocked by Lancer. The spearman twirled his spear, and redirected the battered sword into a less than favorable position. The spear dug into the ground as it neared Saber's breastplate. The knight moved his left gauntlet over to parry the spear point. When Lancer's attack failed, he spun around and sent his spear to Saber's right. Saber anticipated this and used his sword to guard his back. The knight stepped forward into Lancer's ineffective range. Left fist in tow, Saber arced it upwards onto Lancer's chin in the form of a mighty uppercut.

Lancer recoiled backwards from the surprising move the knight made. "Coward, why do you deign to use your fists, swordsman?!"

"Should my sword break, it will mean my Master's death!" Saber answered as he brandished his fractured blade.

"Then why not use your Noble Phantasm?" Lancer asked.

Saber's eyes narrowed to a chilling glare. He poised his sword's handle right behind his ears. His left hand acted as a guide that aimed the sword's point to Lancer's heart. "Thou art not worthy to meet them!" He roared.

"'Them' you say?" Lancer seemed amused by the way Saber phrased his answer. "I don't know what you mean by that."

"And thou shan't ever discover what it means, Culann's Savage Dog." Saber declared.

Lancer stiffened. ' _Tch. Found out already? Without even the use of my Noble Phantasm?_ ' The smirk he had on his face reduce into a frown. ' _That wannabe swordsman, Archer, did mention that I was indeed recognizable. It seems that even with the Command Spell limiting me, my opponents can recognize the inhuman speed I was known for._ '

"What's wrong, Lancer? Too scared to move?" Saber asked normally. "If thou shan't lunge at me, then I shall slash at thee!" The knight dashed froward to uphold his words.

Lancer's arms moved to position his spear against the incoming attack. He waited. At the most opportune moment, he thrust his spear right at Saber's sword arm. His attack was redirected. Lancer knew Saber went for the killing blow. But such a thing wouldn't kill him. He had much more experience; he wasn't a master spearman for nothing. Lancer easily dodged the thrust, and rolled forward and away from Saber. Once out of the roll, he sent his spear across the ground to nick at Saber's ankles.

Saber stopped that by stabbing it into the ground with his fragmented sword.

Lancer sent his spear upwards. Saber stepped off to the side. The blue-clad man pulled back his weapon, then unleashed a flurry of thrusts at his opponent. Saber was forced on defense. Lancer seemed to take Saber more seriously despite the latter's degrading weapon; the speed visibly increased in the swordsman's perspective. "It seems I struck a nerve, Lancer." Saber remarked as he continued to defend against Lancer's frenzied strikes.

"Oh you certainly have, Saber." Lancer stepped forward while he pulled his weapon closer to him. He spun his spear like a windmill. The spear's point gouged out arcs of dirt off the ground. The spearman kept his pressure on Saber without actually slashing, thrusting, or even smacking his spear at his opponent. "I'll relish the moment your face shows regret for not being able to bring out your true skill." The man blurred as he darter left and right. His astounding agility showed.

Saber could not hope to intercept. The best he could do was to move out of the spear's way. His eyes barely followed the glint of red that streaked either the left or right of his body. When one came too close for comfort, Saber sent his blade to protect him from harm.

Metal screeched against metal. Sadly that sound transformed into the sound of something shattering. Saber's sword finally broke. The knight's right arm, his sword arm, recoiled from the disarming blow.

The spearman pulled back his weapon to deliver the final decisive blow. "And now you fall, nameless knight." Lancer muttered. The spear's point eerily came closer and closer. The blue clad man watched closely as Saber mouthed off something.

"Saber!" Shirou shouted from the sidelines.

The knight utilized his 'Instinct' to feel a projectile nearing in between him and Lancer. Without much thought, he readied his sword arm. The projectile came into view: a longsword. Saber masterfully grabbed the handle of the sword then arced it upwards to make his sword's point come from his left to his right. The spear retreated momentarily then advanced immediately after. Saber retaliated against the attack perfectly.

Both Servants stood back after the clash.

In Saber's hand, the longsword glowed stark white underneath serene moonlight. Its guard was unusual. It was oblong in shape to conform to the blade's frame. A small spike adorned each side of the peculiar guard. Even stranger, it was hollow in the middle. A hole in the shape of a teardrop was positioned right in between where guard and metal met. The same metal that made the guard ran along the length of the blade as if it was the fuller. Truly it was a marvel in aesthetic, though Saber had to judge its strength in battle.

Lancer eyed Saber's Master. "That brand of Magecraft of yours is quite a pain, kid." He returned his focus on Saber. "You two make a deadly pair." He complimented. "A projection becomes real in Saber's hand. You can always prepare him a new sword to use to prevent the actual use of his Noble Phantasm." Lancer stepped back while adopting his neutral battle stance. "Trouble…trouble." Then the next peculiar thing came into view. "Hm? Are you right in the head, boy?" He asked as he watched the haggard boy stand next to his Servant.

"Master! It is unwise for thou to stand next to me. Thine safety is in jeopardy. Stay far away from the battlefield." The knight ordered his Master.

"I refuse." Shirou answered calmly. His hands lit up. He projected a pair of kodachis. "I'm going to fight too."

"Master! Listen to reason." Saber pleaded.

"You really should listen, kid." Lancer supported the idea. He twirled his spear to bring attention to it. "This 'ere stabbity stick can _really_ do some damage to humans. And judging from earlier, I doubt you can keep up like Saber can." His face contorted into a snarl. "You're going to die like a dog within seconds!"

"I'm going to fight." Shirou repeated. "I may look foolish doing this, but even I know I can't take Lancer head on." The young man stepped back behind Saber. "You take the brunt of Lancer's attacks, while I cover any openings that you may have."

"It's still not right!" Saber protested.

"I refuse to stand in the sidelines. I'm your partner, _not_ your Master, understand?"

Overwhelming Mana flooded the area. The pair looked at Lancer's spear glowed bright red. Its point held an undeniable aura of death. "How touching, but I can't let either of you live. Saber essentially knows my identity, and you, kid, can cover his openings. I have no choice in the matter." Mana poured outwards even further. The beastly spearman roared, "Ready or not I shall come to take you life!" The spearman charged. The spear's profile contorted as it waited to be unleashed from Lancer's restraint.

Saber grabbed Shirou's collar without warning. Shirou protested. Saber chucked his Master as far away behind him as possible. After that he called forth his Mana in front of him. The image of a giant cross appeared in his mind. He focused on that image, then brought it forth into the real world.

 _Thine heart is unyielding;_

 _Thine walls are unwavering;_

 _We, who bear our souls for the kingdom,_

 _Shan't fall,_

 _Shan_ _'_ _t break,_

 _By this will we accede to protect_

 _Those within its walls._

 _For it is this Fortress of the Distant Utopia_

 _That shoulders the burden_

 _Of thine own sin._

A gigantic cross embedded itself into the ground in front of Saber. But it wasn't merely just a cross. A large disc came through that cross. It's polished silver contrasted against the black metal. On the center of that cross was the etchings of fairy letters. This too, like Excalibur and Avalon, was enchanted by fairies.

Lancer instantly recognized who he dealt with in general. Fairy letters and the words 'Distant Utopia' were signal words that screamed, "Arthurian knight?!" He could hardly believe what he heard. He expected another european hero with medieval background like Saint George or something. But an Arthurian knight of which Lancer knew nothing of his opponent's identity? He hadn't expected that.

From behind his shield, Saber beckoned, "Come, Cú Chulainn! Let me meet thine accursed spear!"

"You will die a painful death, Saber!" Lancer lunged forward. His right arm rocketed forwards, and aimed at the ground. "Gáe Bolg!" The spear bent at an unnatural angle instantly. It headed for Saber's heart.

A large magic circle erupted off the surface of the shield. At its middle a cross surrounded by an octagram. The magic circle glowed holy blue as it expanded far wider and taller than the shield itself. "Protect my heart, Lord Camelot!" Saber roared.

The spear's cursed form moved erratically as it attempted to pierce the shield. But it couldn't. No matter how many angles Gáe Bolg may try to do, it can't go past it. The spear that always aimed for the heart could not go past its stalwart obstacle. The shield in its way was a complete contradiction to its own existence. The shield remained so long as Saber's will did not wither. When paired together, the clashing Noble Phantasms were a paradoxical force. A curse as strong as the one Gáe Bolg held should have destroyed the shield upon impact; however, the shield did not disappear.

The idea that either Noble Phantasm would break on its own was in itself a paradox. A shield wasn't meant to destroy whatever touched its surface. A spear wasn't meant to halt against a shield either. Only two possible outcomes came. Either both broke from the paradoxical clash, or nothing happened.

In layman's terms: Gáe Bolg refused to stop until it reached its target, which rendered itself into an endless loop. This 'loop' could not happen because of what each Noble Phantasm stood for. Gáe Bolg will always aim for the heart. Lord Camelot will always prevent Gáe Bolg from piercing Saber's heart as long as Saber wished to fight. So the next best thing happened.

Nothing.

Spear met shield in an unimpressive clash.

Lancer leaped backwards immediately upon the failed attempt at ending Saber's life. "Who…who the hell are you?!" The spearman demanded.

Saber moved the shield to his left. "Any knight worth his skill knows to bring one shield for battle, Lancer."

"No ordinary knight carries a shield capable of warding off curses like the one I use, Saber." Lancer snarled. He lowered the point of his spear. "Might you be…Sir Galahad?" He uneasily guessed.

Saber took a moment to decide. "Good try." The knight admitted. "This shield is certainly owned by Sir Galahad." Saber took a ready stance. "But I'll have to let thou know that I'm mine own person, Lancer. I'm completely different from Sir Galahad."

"An unknown Knight of the Round?" Lancer questioned. "Impossible! No respectable knight of that group would have an enigma in their ranks! Certainly not one who's capable of wielding a shield of that caliber!"

Saber ignored Lancer's words while he raised his sword. "Well now…will thou point thy spear against me once more?"

Lancer sucked his teeth. The Servant stepped backwards. "My spear failed. Master is calling for retreat."

"I think not, Lancer." Saber said with a definitive stomp on the idea. "Thou shan't escape mine eyes!" Saber charged.

Lancer spun his spear, then impaled the spear's point onto the ground. "That so? Too bad." Lancer leaped atop one of the many rooftops of Shirou's home. "We'll meet again, Saber. Prepare yourself for that moment." In a blur, he disappeared into nothing.

Saber skidded to a stop. He scowled at the enemy that quickly disengaged from combat. He dematerialized the shield, Lord Camelot, and gave the sword in his hand a look over. Saber marveled at the craft. Distinct. Somewhat flawed in its material structure but astounding nonetheless. Much greater in quality compared to the first sword Saber held. He had to wonder how his Master formed his brand of Magecraft.

"Saber!" Shirou called as he ran to Saber's side.

"Reckless." Saber remarked. The comment stopped Shirou in his tracks. "Master…thou art utterly reckless." He turned around. "I don't know whether or not to berate such conduct, or applaud thine bravery."

Shirou crossed his arms. "I said that I won't stand idly in battle, Saber. I'll be your partner, not your Master." He reiterated to the Servant of the Sword. "I refuse to let my skills go to waste. I refuse to let you you take on the burden of this War alone. I'll share it with you, and we'll win this War." The sheer resolve from Shirou's voice alone surprised Saber. It felt refreshing to know that his Master's wasn't too much like an arrogant Magi of this era.

"If that is thy wish, I will gladly abide." Saber said as he went down on one knee.

"What did I say, Saber?" Shirou reminded.

Saber sprang up then immediately bowed. "Apologies, Master. A reflexive reaction."

The young Master laughed. "It's all right, Saber. Just treat me as an equal when in battle okay?"

The knight nodded. "Very well. I shall-" Saber pushed Shirou aside to swing his sword at a rain of arrows. All were redirected or cut down. Not a single arrow struck the knight.

The perpetrator landed several meters away from Saber. It was a bowman clad in red and black cloth. His white hair bore stark contrast to his clothing and tanned skin. If anything, he looked as if he wanted to stick out like a sore thumb. The Servant said, "Terribly sorry. My eyes deceived me. I thought you were Lancer."

Saber scoffed, "And here I thought archers needed extraordinary eyesight to kill their targets. It seems thou art the black sheep to that generalization."

"You want to talk in roundabout insults?" The Servant in red asked. "I can do this for a week. You?"

"Thou started this bout, and I have no qualms continuing." Saber responded.

"Very well. Shall we continue?" The Servant of the Bow asked.

"Archer, you will do no such thing." A female voice spoke from behind the bowman. She presented herself by walking away from Archer's back. Her signature red paired nicely with Archer's own. They appeared like a match for each other by appearances alone. The young woman flipped one of her twin-tails over her shoulder, and greeted the new Master/Servant pair. "Good evening, Emiya-kun. A lovely night to you as well, Saber. It seems you're well acquainted with this situation."

"Tohsaka?" Shirou asked. "What are you-" Saber placed a hand over Shirou's mouth.

"Indeed we are, enemy Master." Saber answered.

"My debt is paid then it seems. Good." She said while muttering the first sentence. "All the more easier to explain my next action." Her left hand pointed at Saber. "Archer, you have your target. Fire or slash at will."

 _ **And that**_ _ **'**_ _ **s it for this chapter. I know I might get flak for G**_ _ **á**_ _ **e Bolg vs Lord Camelot. My source of Lord Camelot was the wiki, so yeah**_ _ **…**_ _ **not the most reliable, but comprehensive enough in its explanation. It said Lord Camelot will protect the wielder until the wielder**_ _ **'**_ _ **s will falls, or something along those lines. Now for Shirou Tracing a weapon that he didn**_ _ **'**_ _ **t physically see. That**_ _ **'**_ _ **s something I**_ _ **'**_ _ **m pretty sure I**_ _ **'**_ _ **ll get flak for as well. But here**_ _ **'**_ _ **s my thought process on it: If Shirou has the experience to trace multiple weapons, then couldn**_ _ **'**_ _ **t he use some of the composition from one of his copies to supply the new sword with? Anyways, Shirou**_ _ **'**_ _ **s backstory will be expanded upon in later chapters.**_

 _ **So review, follow, favorite, I don**_ _ **'**_ _ **t care.**_

 _ **This is Azure signing off.**_


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